Father's Day
by brwneyes1324
Summary: Father's Day has come again, but what does that mean to a man who isn't a father anymore?
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:** My best friend was complaining about Father's Day because she and her husband got into a big fight, but she and thier kid still had Father's Day shopping to do. The soap opera aside, it got me thinking, what would someone who lost his entire family think when silly little holidays like this roll around? Thus, a plot bunny is born!_

_Disclaimer: This is done for love of the show and characters, and I own nothing but my own words._

**Father's Day**

For five years, Patrick Jane lived a bland, empty life. He hid it behind a quick smile and laughing eyes, but no matter how good the day turned out to be, his smile faded fast without an audience. He was broken, and he knew it. His work was filled with a never ending search for redemption and justice, and his nights with insufficient sleep and desperate attempts to distract himself. His grief was ever present, a constant ache he could even ignore, after a fashion.

But there were five days in the year when he couldn't ignore it anymore. Christmas brought a bittersweet ache, filled with memories of happy times and the longing for what was. His wedding anniversary was hard, and he usually spent all night talking to the ghost of his wife in an empty house. Her birthday brought restless dreams of a mad dash to the hospital, a newborn cry and images of little girl parties and messy birthday cakes. The day they died made him waspish and withdrawn as he struggled with his rage, and even the endless patience of his CBI colleagues would wear thin and ragged. He thought Lisbon suspected the reason, but she said nothing, kept the peace until the moodiness passed, and let him wander off alone when he needed.

Father's day, however, was the one that hurt. For weeks before hand, endless commercials and advertisements about gifts for dads taunted him. Usually, if he wasn't working a case, Jane would take a walk in the park or down the street on those lazy Sunday mornings just to people watch. But one Sunday in June, he avoided. Seeing fathers playing with children on that day, of all days, opened a wound that never really closed. Laughing sons playing ball, giggling girls giving orders to grown men, the loving looks of indulgent wives; it was just too much for him. It was like the universe conspired to remind him that he wasn't a father anymore, wasn't a husband. If he had been inclined to drink, this one day in June would surely have driven him to drown in a vat of alcohol.

This Father's day brought a murder. He awoke early and had been fixing his morning tea in his pajamas when his cell phone rang. He planned a day of hiding inside his home, perhaps reading that novel Cho had given him. Although he normally welcomed a case, today he didn't welcome anything that would take him out into the world.

"Jane," he answered politely, pleased his voice was steady.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Lisbon said in mild concern.

"Wrong? Why would anything be wrong?" Jane asked in confusion, fussing with his teacup. "You called me, remember?"

"You usually answer the phone with some pithy comment, Jane," Lisbon pointed out. Jane couldn't help but smile.

"You keep track of how I answer the phone? That's sweet, Lisbon," Jane said, his grin getting wider as he pictured her green eyes rolling.

"Jane," Lisbon said in exasperation.

"What? I just got up, that's all. You can't expect charming and witty until after my first cup of tea. I don't mess with you before you've had your morning coffee," Jane defended himself. "So cut me some slack, woman."

"Fine," Lisbon said. Jane could hear the trace of amusement in her tone. "I'm sorry I interrupted your beauty sleep. But we have a case."

"I figured as much," Jane said, sipping his tea as he headed for the bedroom to dress. "What's up?"

"A candidate for the Sacramento City Council was murdered last night," Lisbon explained. "I'll fill you in once I pick you up. I'm about 10 minutes from your place."

"Right," Jane said, setting his tea down and opening the closet. "See you in a few minutes, my dear,"

Exactly nine minutes later, a black SUV pulled up to Jane's quiet apartment complex. Lisbon knew he still had a home in Malibu, but had taken this little apartment to be closer to the CBI. Sacramento and Malibu were too far away for an easy commute. Lisbon was tempted to go up, to peek into the little place Jane kept. Little did she know, Jane had rented a furnished apartment, and hadn't bothered to personalize it beyond his clothes and a very nice copper bottomed tea kettle. Even the horrible wall art had come with the place. Before Lisbon could decide, she spotted Jane locking his door and heading down to her SUV.

An elderly woman in a big hat sitting near the pool waved cheerily to the leaving Jane, who gave her a wink and a smile. Lisbon tried to hide her smile as the older woman practically melted under Jane's charm. Today he was wearing his black suit and matching vest, white shirt with thin gray pin striping. His blond curls were mostly combed, and he hadn't had a chance to shave, leaving him with a slight stubble. Lisbon didn't want to admit the whole thing looked good on him.

"Who's the girlfriend?" Lisbon teased as she pulled into traffic.

"Mrs. Fremont," Jane smiled. "She's the landlady. So what's the story with the councilman?"

"Council person," Lisbon corrected, "Jasmine Zeller, and she hadn't been elected yet. She was a candidate, but looked really good to win. This morning, her husband came home from a business trip early this morning and found her body."

"Zeller," Jane muttered. "Isn't she running against that guy the hooker sold out to the tabloids?"

"Jorge Ramirez," Lisbon supplied. "That would be the guy."

"Hmm, guess he shouldn't have done that last line of coke off the hooker's stomach while her pimp took pictures," Jane said with a smirk. "But with Zeller gone, he wins his seat back."

"Hardly worth it at this point," said Lisbon with a snort. "His reputation is ruined and his career is over. Even if he is elected, there's already a petition going around to get him recalled."

"Still, it's a motive," Jane pointed out.

"How about we actually get some evidence before we start convicting people," Lisbon replied, doing her best to sound severe. "Maybe even see the crime scene first?"

Jane grinned at her and shrugged. He looked out the window as they passed a park, and his smile faded. A tall blond man in jeans lay on his side in the grass, his wife crossed-legged beside him, laughing as he tried to tempt her into eating a chocolate covered strawberry from a gift basket beside him. A little girl with her sparse hair in pig tails toddled up and fell right into her father's lap. Her parents cooed in amused concern, righted their little treasure and watched as she made her unsteady way to the picnic basket.

He remained silent, and ignored the frequent looks Lisbon shot his way. Luckily, it would be a short trip, but the silence was awkward. Finally, Lisbon couldn't handle it anymore.

"Jane? You okay?" Lisbon asked. Her concerned warmth drew Jane out of his shell enough to look in her eyes, and the half-formed platitude he was about to tell died on his lips. Today, he was just too tired of pretending it was all okay, and he didn't want to lie to the only person in the world who might understand. The sadness in Jane's eyes made Lisbon want to hold him close, but she knew she wouldn't. What she could do was wait, and let Jane share what he wanted. It was a delicate balance they had struck, and the trust was still fragile between two people who had trust broken once too often.

"It's Father's Day today, Lisbon," Jane said softly, and looked away again. Lisbon suddenly understood. She had lost her father long ago, first to drink and then to death, so the holiday held little meaning for her now. She mostly ignored it, and actually hadn't realized that it was today. But it obviously meant something to Jane. Lisbon reached out, and placed her hand on Jane's upper arm, and favored him with a gentle smile when he looked at her in surprise. Her hand dropped away, and they rode the rest of the way in silence, but it wasn't strained anymore.

Father's Day was still the one that hurt the most, but with Lisbon, maybe it didn't have to hurt as much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The SUV pulled up to a large, two story house in an upscale neighborhood lined with trees. Lisbon expertly threaded her car between the other police cars, forensic trucks and more than a few curious bystanders behind held at bay by yellow tape. Jane exited the car, and tucked his hands into his suit coat as he strolled after Lisbon's small frame into the house.

Once inside the door, a compact but powerfully built Asian man and his taller male companion approached Lisbon. Cho and Rigsby had out their notebooks and immediately turned to update their boss. Lisbon looked expectantly at her agents, while Jane's gaze started to travel restlessly around the room.

"Jasmine Zeller," Cho began impassively as they walked to the crime scene. "42 years old, married 15 years. She was found by her husband at 6am when he came back from a business trip from North Carolina."

The body of Jasmine Zeller lay on her back on the kitchen floor, her legs slightly bent to the side. If it hadn't been for the small, dark hole in her chest and the spread of bloody wings behind her, she looked as if she was sleeping. She wore a pale yellow tank top and matching pajama shorts, revealing a surprisingly trim figure and strong legs. Her short, light brown hair was just starting to develop shiny silver streaks, and her long narrow face looked peaceful. Jane and Lisbon exchanged a look, and then both started to pace around the room.

"Coroner places time of death at about 4 am," Cho continued.

"Anyone see or hear anything?" Lisbon asked as she knelt by Jasmine Zeller's feet, looking intently at her pale body.

"No," Rigsby chimed in. "Their maid, Esperanza Cortez, usually lives here but she's been visiting her son in Mexico for the last week, and the daughter, Kailey Zeller, was spending the night at her friends. The neighbors didn't hear anything."

"How did the murderer get in?" Lisbon asked, shifting slightly to look at the kitchen door.

"It doesn't appear to have been forced," Cho said. "And the alarm system didn't go off."

"So, someone she knew," Jane said finally. "Someone she trusted enough to just let walk inside at 4 in the morning."

Lisbon stood up, adjusting her coat unconsciously to keep her gun holster hidden, and peeled off her rubber gloves. "Where is the husband?"

"Living room," Cho said, indicating the direction.

Once in the room, Lisbon sat on the coffee table in front of Mark Zeller, who was holding his young daughter tightly to his side. His face had a blank look, and it took a moment for him to focus on Lisbon when she started to talk. Kailey had her mother's light brown hair and her father's pale blue eyes, and looked like she wanted to cry, but wasn't sure if she could. She huddled next to her father and looked scared.

"Mr. Zeller, I'm very sorry for your loss," Lisbon said sympathetically. "I just have a few questions for you."

"Okay," Mark Zeller agreed numbly.

"When did you leave for your business trip?" Lisbon asked while Jane hovered in the background, looking at the framed pictures on the mantle while Lisbon questioned.

Jane found himself having to force a neutral expression, fighting the hollow pain in his chest. All the pictures were of a happy family, and several showed a laughing Kailey in her father's arms. Jane was forced to look away from the image of a younger Mark Zeller gingerly holding his newborn daughter next to his wife in the hospital bed. He took a deep breath, and moved away from the pictures, letting himself scan the rest of the tastefully decorated room. Once he had pushed his own pain back, he focused again on Lisbon.

"Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your wife?" Lisbon was asking.

"No! No, everyone loved Jasmine," Mark said, hugging his daughter so tightly she winced slightly. "I don't know of anyone who would want to…" Mark's voice trailed off, and Lisbon could see him trying to stifle his tears.

"Any recent fights or disagreements with anyone?" Lisbon asked after giving the grieving husband a moment.

"None that I know of," Mark said.

"What about the campaign? I understand it has been getting fierce," Lisbon continued.

Mark snorted. "Ramirez is just getting desperate. He's losing...was losing…by a mile. Jas thinks his attack ads are actually kind of sad. I mean, she thought…"

"Any disgruntled employees or campaign workers?" Lisbon's green eyes looked gently at the grieving man and daughter. "How about you, Mr. Zeller? Anyone you have had trouble with?"

"No, no," Zeller said, then paused. "Well, there was nasty incident last month."

"What kind of incident?" Lisbon pressed.

"One of my employees. Henry Bass, was embezzling," Mark Zeller said. "When I fired him, he got ugly, yelling threats. I actually had him arrested and we got a restraining order. Oh my god, do you think he could have done this?"

"I don't know, Mr. Zeller, but we will look into it. Do you know where we can find Mr. Bass?" Lisbon replied.

"My secretary will have that information," Zeller said, and then his tenuous control started to slip.

Kailey hugged her father when he started to cry softly, her own eyes watering. Lisbon waited a moment before leaving the two to their grief. She caught a look at Jane's face, the slightly wooden expression and shadowed eyes as he tried to bring himself back under control. She had a moment of regret that she had brought him out to face a grieving father and daughter on a day that already was causing him pain.

Lisbon felt like she had known Patrick Jane for a lifetime, but she still felt like she was spying when his mask infrequently slipped. She had learned to see behind the persona Jane projected, to see the broken man behind the pain in the ass arrogance, and she saw his broken shadow self in the frozen half-smile and stiff expression. As she walked past Jane, she caught his gaze and gave him a supportive look before slipping away.

Jane could feel the brittleness of his smile, and wasn't surprised that Lisbon was seeing through him. Usually, he hated it when someone saw his private self, but oddly he didn't mind Lisbon's gaze today. He knew she saw more than she said, it was one of the things he liked about her. Today, she was letting herself be more expressive than usual and he knew it was for him. Because he was in pain, and she understood that. But understanding was all she offered, knowing it was all he would accept.

Patrick Jane turned to follow the dark haired, petite woman like a lost man chasing the mirage of sanctuary.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3—Sugar and Spice**

Jane lay on his couch, eyes closed but tracking the scant sounds of the CBI office on a Sunday afternoon. He could make out the clattering of Van Pelt's keyboard, the rustle of Rigsby's papers. Cho made the least amount of sound, only the occasional rustle of his files filtered into Jane's hearing. Farther away were the sounds of the few other agents doing their own work on the cases the Serious Crimes Unit didn't cover. Lisbon made no sounds Jane could hear, her office being too far away.

Then the faint strands of music drifted into Jane's hearing. He concentrated until the music was all he could hear, the rest of the office fading away. It sounded like it was coming from one of the upstairs offices, muffled by distance. The music had a nice latin beat. Not quite salsa and not quite tango, it was a mix of electronic instruments and a Spanish guitar with a bit of rock and roll thrown in that Jane rather liked.

The music was unlikely to be one of the cleaning staff. They were, for the most part, Hispanic women who worked with rapid and efficient efforts, chatting quietly in rapid Spanish when no one else was around, but didn't bring their music to work. Ramon was the lone exception, a short, older Jamacian man who danced to the nearly endless Bob Marley and reggae his small speakers played on his late night shifts. Jane thought about who would be upstairs on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Minelli was not in, playing golf on his day off, and likely losing money to the Attorney General in their weekly game. The organized crime guys typically took Sunday's off for football. That left the Forensic Accountants, but he couldn't think of any big cases to bring them in on their weekends off.

Unable to restrain his curiosity any longer, Jane swung his long legs off the couch and ran a quick hand through his hair. He left his suit coat on his desk, smoothed his dark vest and headed for the stairs to investigate. Cho and Grace shot him quick smiles as he passed, and he cheerfully nodded back.

The music got louder as he made his way up the stairs. Once at the top, he glanced to the closed door of Minelli's office. He suppressed his usual urge to pick the lock and snoop through the CBI Supervising Agent's personal files, knowing he would pass by. There were few things Minelli and Lisbon wouldn't (eventually) forgive him for, but that deed would be one of them.

Down the open hall, a door was slightly ajar and it was from that far office the music came from. Jane trailed his hand on the metal banister as he walked slowly to the office door, taking note of the name.

Jessica O'Neill, CPA, MBA. The lettering under her office indicated she was the new supervisor for the forensic accounting division, and Jane dredged up the memory of an averaged sized woman with pale hazel eyes and auburn hair twisted into a professional but classy bun being led on a tour by Minelli a few weeks ago.

The music shifted into a new song of the same style but a slower pace, and Jane heard a few muffled words from behind the mostly closed door. He quietly approached, and softly pushed the door. It swung open soundlessly, and Jane propped himself on the frame with a smile.

Jessica O'Neill had her head down, her hair in a simple, functional ponytail and trailing over her shoulder as she sorted through seemingly endless rows of numbers. Her pencil tapped absently in time to the music as she started at her work. But it was the little girl playing quietly on the floor that made Jane's breath catch.

She had pale skin and her mother's auburn hair. She lay on her stomach, coloring with gleeful disregard for the lines, a few crayons spread around her. The girl appeared perhaps 4 years old, slender and with a heart shaped face that echoed his own lost daughter. His mind flashed, and it was a slender, blond girl with bright blue eyes coloring in the Malibu afternoon sun. The girl looked up, and it took him a moment to realize her eyes were light brown, not blue. He forced a smile past the sudden hole in his chest.

"Hello," the girl said politely, obviously curious. She sat up, red crayon in her hand.

"Hello," Jane replied, ignoring her mother's startled look at the strange man leaning in her office doorway. "I'm Patrick."

"Hello, Patrick," the girl replied seriously. "I'm Bonny, but everyone calls me Bunny. Do you work for my mommy?"

"Bonny," her mother broke in, but Jane's charming smile and a wave cut her off.

"No," Jane said. "My boss is downstairs, but she doesn't let me color at work. I'm sorry, Ms. O'Neill, I just was curious about the music."

"Oh no," Jessica O'Neill, "is it too loud?"

"No, not at all. I was just bored and I liked what I heard," Jane laughed off her concern. "I'm Patrick Jane, by the way."

"Lisbon's consultant," Jessica added, her hazel eyes darkening slightly as she took in the handsome man who had suddenly appeared in her doorway. She saw the glint of gold on his ring finger, and Jane could see her mind running through the assorted rumors she must have heard by now. Personally, he liked the one about the pony he had given Lisbon for her birthday the best, but since he had started most of them himself, he couldn't really play favorites. He casually disregarded Jessica's intense look and leaned down near her daughter.

"What are you coloring, Bunny?" Jane asked. "Is that a purple frog?"

"No," Bunny giggled. "It's a red car, silly."

"Oh dear, my mistake," Jane said with a smile. "So what is a charming little girl like you doing here on a Sunday?"

"Mommy had to work," Bunny chirped while her mother suddenly blushed. Then Jessica frowned, not sure why she was blushing under this strange man's intense gaze.

"Babysitter cancelled," Jessica explained to his look, and Jane nodded in sudden understanding.

"So why is mommy working on a Sunday?" Jane asked with a playful smile. "And without her team."

Bunny thought hard for a moment. "I don't know. Why are you working, Mommy?"

"Because I have a lot to catch up on as the new boss," Jessica replied calmly, shooting her daughter a soft smile. "There are several big cases coming up for trial in the next two weeks, and I need to be prepared."

"Oh," Bunny said. "Can we go home soon?"

"Yes, sweetie," Jessica replied. "I'm almost done. I'm sorry, Mr. Jane. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You didn't, Ms. O'Neill," Jane replied with a shrug, looking at Bunny who had returned to her coloring. "I was just thinking about taking a nap. And please, just call me Jane. Everyone does."

"I hate naps," Bunny said enthusiastically. "But Mommy says I have to have one every day anyway."

"I love naps," Jane replied, handing the girl another crayon she was looking for. "They let you plan more mischief for later."

Bunny giggled, and Jessica smiled again when Bunny offered to let Jane color with her. Her smile turned a little uncertain when Jane agreed, but she couldn't help but stare in amazement when the tall man happily lay on his stomach next to the little girl. The two dickered over the purple crayon, but eventually Bunny won and the two started to color together.

Jessica just shook her head, and went back to work. She had heard a dozen rumors about the blond haired man. The only thing they agreed on what that the consultant was unpredictable, and only Agent Lisbon seemed to have any control of him at all. But the solved cases rate had skyrocketed since the mercurial man had arrived, and no one could deny his effectiveness.

A few hours later, Lisbon left her office and found most of her team finishing up the day's reports. The Zeller case was just getting started, and Van Pelt had already found nothing suspicious in their finances. Cho had tracked down the man Mr. Zeller had fired, and Rigsby had finished sorting through the statements of the neighbors. Suddenly, Lisbon looked around in wary surprise.

"Where's Jane?" Lisbon asked.

"He went upstairs a few hours ago," Van Pelt said.

"Why?" Lisbon asked, and only got a few shrugs from her agents. She looked up the stairs, debating for a moment, before heading up.

Lisbon heard a few faint voices and a muffled laugh from the office at the end, Jessica O'Neill's office. Lisbon had only met the new head of Forensic Accounting a few times, but had thought she might like the coolly professional woman.

The door swung silently inward, and Lisbon was rendered speechless for a moment. Jessica and a little girl huddled close over a book. They were coloring, and Jane was beside them working on whatever project enraptured the three of them.

"But why can't the sky be yellow and the grass blue?" Jane was asking with a light voice, his face serious except for the amused glint in his eye.

"Because that isn't right," the little girl replied intently. "Now do it right."

"Oh, alright," Jane said with a heavy sigh and a wink to an amused Jessica. The mother turned back to help her daughter color, and so never saw Jane's expression.

In the doorway, Lisbon saw Jane's eyes shadow as he looked at the little girl. Old pain, never quite forgotten but so very fresh today, burned behind his eyes. His quiet sadness pulled at Lisbon's heart, and she decided not to intrude.

Jane's eyes flickered to the doorway just at Lisbon slipped away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: This scene has been in my head for a while, and I hope I've presented it clearly.**

**Chapter 4—the one mistake**

Teresa Lisbon stood staring out of her office window, watching the late afternoon sun slip away. This was her favorite time of the day, when the world seemed to slow and the hectic pressure to keep moving finally eased. Her workday was done for now, and she had turned off her office light. She wasn't thinking of anything in particular at that moment, her dark hair slipping from its pony tail to curl around her chin. The fading daylight threw the shadow of her slight frame into the open doorway of her office. Her green eyes were distant, her face calm as she communed with the oncoming evening, letting herself fill with a melancholy peace before heading home.

A faint sound in the now empty offices behind her made Lisbon turn, and she watched as the tall blond man who was a nearly constant pain in her ass made his way across the now empty offices. She knew he was headed to his couch, and pictured him sitting heavily on the worn leather, pausing for a moment, then laying with his head on the arm. She knew his arm would swing over his eyes as he burrowed himself into to the leather, could imagine the long lines of his frame relaxing as he settled in. He would doze on that couch for a few hours before finally heading back to his apartment, only to appear the next morning his usual self.

Jane's evening routine was nearly as much a part of Lisbon's awareness as her own.

She waited until she couldn't hear the soft groans of the leather as Jane got settled in. After a few minutes of silence, she walked quietly to the open entry way to her team's office space. Since Van Pelt had arrived, the CBI Serious Crimes Division agent's four desks had made a kind of virtual space that the rest of the CBI unconsciously respected. Cho and Rigsby's desk, flanked by Van Pelt's, made a corridor toward Jane's couch and rarely used desk. The open doorway Lisbon now walked through was actually guarded by Jane himself, whose cheerful smile hid the impish tendencies that made walking through that portal a chancy business for anyone who wasn't part of Lisbon's team.

Lisbon leaned against the post, and gazed at the apparently sleeping man. His vest was undone, laying open over the shirt. The top few buttons of the shirt were undone, and his stubble had thickened through the day. Lisbon took in the lines of Jane's face, again wondering just what made him so damn attractive.

Objectively speaking, Jane had physical flaws. His skin was weathered, marked by lines and the occasional scar of an active, outdoorsy life well lived before he had come to the CBI. His nose was just a little too round to be truly handsome, his lips too narrow, the eyes a shade small for his face and with a squint. Rigsby, quite frankly, was a much more attractive specimen of a man. Tall and well built, broad shouldered and with a young, square face unmarred by time and a pair of bright blue eyes to make any woman at least look twice. But once Jane looked at you, the force of his personality fused with his physical form to create a gravitational pull it was nigh impossible to resist.

Jane let sleep fall away as he felt himself being studied, and cracked open an eye, half expecting a new cleaning lady to be looking at him in surprise. He opened both eyes when he saw it was Lisbon, and turned to her. She was unusually pensive as she watched him. There was no trace of her usual professional distance, no ounce of irritation or hint of amusement in her expression. She simply watched him, the memory of him huddled with a little girl and her mother upstairs, playing with crayons in a CBI office.

"Lisbon?" Jane asked, and sat up when her expression didn't change and she didn't respond. "Lisbon? Is something wrong?"

Lisbon didn't answer, just cocked her head to the side and studied the blond man. Jane waited, his ocean blue eyes growing concerned at this unusual behavior from the small woman.

"I asked a priest once," Lisbon finally said, touching the small gold cross at her neck. Jane blinked in surprise.

"Asked him what?" Jane asked in confusion.

"Why bad things happen," Lisbon replied, "Why God let evil in the world."

"It's not God, Lisbon," Jane replied, a trace of bitter scorn in his voice. But he waited, wondering where this odd conversation would go. Lisbon had never acted like this before.

"That's what he said," Lisbon agreed. "That it is people who let evil in the world, that the choices we make let evil in the world."

"Free will," Jane said, his lips curling into his usual disdainful smile as he put his emotional armor back on. Lisbon saw it, and smiled a little at it. For all his mercurial nature, Jane could be surprisingly predictable.

"Yes, free will," Lisbon said. "Our greatest gift and our greatest curse."

"There is no God, Lisbon," Jane said. Lisbon waved him silent, then knelt down in front of him. Jane's eyes widened in surprise as she rested her hands on his knees and looked up intently into his eyes.

"People choose," Lisbon said. "We choose to be good or bad. We make good decisions and bad ones, based on our own desires and blind spots and incomplete information. It's just the way it is, but overall it's the balance of our choices and actions that determine the kind of person we are."

"Lisbon, why are you telling me this?" Jane asked, resting his hands over hers on his knees. Lisbon took a deep breath.

"You made choices," Lisbon said softly, her eyes refusing to let him look away. She saw the echo of old regrets and guilt in the depths of his ocean blue eyes. "For good or ill, you made choices. And Red John made choices. Bad things happened. It's just the way it is."

"Lisbon," Jane choked out, his anger warring with the sudden need to cry.

"Hush," Lisbon said, placing her finger on his lips. His lips widened in surprise, breath catching. "Let me finish."

Jane nodded slightly, lips tingling at her unexpected touch. It wasn't often he wasn't in some kind of control, but Lisbon was acting completely out of character.

"Patrick, you made choices," Lisbon continued. "Maybe you should have chosen different ones, but that is irrelevant now. And Red John made choices, and cost us everything. I understand why you are the way you are now. But you can't stay like this, trapped in the past."

"Cost us everything?" Jane said in confusion. Lisbon stood up, and leaned down to take his face in her hands. She brushed her thumb over his lips, a familiar caress from a woman now long dead. Jane felt a surge of panic when he saw Lisbon's green eyes had turned brown. An achingly familiar brown.

"What is happening?" Jane asked, panic trying to take hold and the world wavered. He reached up to take her hands away, but froze as the the scent and sound of an ocean surf drifted to him. Lisbon leaned closer, her now brown eyes sorrowful as her full lips pressed into his. His eyes slipped closed as her kiss stole his breath. A sudden longing filled his chest, and a warm tear slipped from his eye.

"You made choices," Lisbon said after she pulled away slightly. "And you chose to be a good father. You are a wonderful father, Patrick, and good man. Don't ever forget that. That's why we love you so much. You are a good father."

"I was a selfish, vain man," Jane whispered into this not-Lisbon's warm breath, eyes still closed. "I'm sorry."

"And then you chose not to be," she whispered back. "And we aren't sorry. You were ours, and we were yours. Maybe it was too short a time, but it was all we had. No regrets, my love."

Jane reached out as her hands faded away, and he let out a small cry of longing. "Don't leave me!"

Her hands solidified slightly. "We have never left you, Patrick, and we never will. But you have to make new choices, and I want you to make them. We want you to make them."

Jane opened his eyes, and stared into warm, loving brown eyes he had thought lost forever. Familiar eyes in the face of another woman. "It's choices, Patrick, always our choices. Make good ones this time. Second chances are rare. Take it."

He heard the faint sound of a little girl laughing as his brown-eyed Lisbon faded away in front of him, leaving only a dreamscape of the Malibu ocean in front of him as he sat on the brown leather couch in the sand. His heart broke again at the soft joy in her smile. He felt warm tears spill onto his face, and a phantom hand brush them away.

"Jane! Jane, wake up!" Lisbon's voice floated in the wind. "Jane!"

Patrick Jane opened his eyes with a start. They felt sticky and raw, his breath harsh. He sat up suddenly, wiping away the wet trails on his face. He looked up to see Lisbon sit down next to him.

"Jane? Are you alright?" Lisbon asked intently, her hand catching his. Jane's fingers tightened as he met her concerned eyes.

Green eyes.

Lisbon was shocked at the broken sob Jane let out, and gathered him close to her as he wept. He leaned his head into her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist as he silently cried. Lisbon stroked his hair, murmuring comforting nonsense until his shaking stopped.

They sat like that for a long time, Lisbon's arms wrapped around the now quiet Jane in the empty building.

Finally Jane leaned away and Lisbon reluctantly let him go.

"I'm sorry," Jane said quietly, looking away. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay," Lisbon said just as quietly. "Feel better?"

Jane sniffed slightly, and gave a slightly embarrassed smile. "Yes. Thank you. For being here."

Lisbon placed her hand on his shoulder, but didn't force Jane to meet her eyes.

"You are a good man, Jane," Lisbon said softly, responding to the feeling that he needed to hear that. "I'm here for you when you need me."

"Good man," Jane said, his lips curling into a bitter sneer. "What does that mean anyway?"

"That you try to do the right thing, even when you have messed up," Lisbon said firmly. "And I know as well as anyone just how often you mess up, and how badly. But you keep trying, and that is what makes you a good man."

"But how many mistakes are too many?" Jane asked himself softly, not really expecting an answer.

"One," Lisbon replied firmly. Jane looked at her in shocked surprise.

"The one where you quit trying again."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long! And kudos to those who figure out why I chose to title this chaper this way :)**

**Chapter 5—Fishing**

Rigsby stood in the cold room, staring down at the body of Jasmine Zeller. She had been washed and undressed, then placed on the impersonal steel tray. Covered tastefully by a white sheet, Rigsby couldn't help but compare her still, lifeless face with the laughing, open woman in her campaign ads.

"It's creepy," Rigsby said finally to the red headed woman standing nearby as the two waited for their boss and wayward consultant to join them. Monday mornings were bad enough, but double so when it started with an autopsy.

"It's a morgue," Van Pelt replied, mostly hiding her own unease. "Of course it is creepy."

"No, that's not what I mean," Rigsby replied. Van Pelt looked at him in confusion. "I saw one of her TV ads last night. I guess they haven't pulled them all yet, and it's creepy knowing she is laying here. Dead."

"Only her body is dead," Van Pelt said, coming to stand by him.

"But her soul will live forever, high in the sky with angels and cotton candy clouds," a mocking, golden voice said from the door. Van Pelt turned to see Jane walking in, his hand tucked firmly into his light grey suit pockets. He had his usual smile in place, but Van Pelt had been working with the uncannily observant man too long to not have picked up a few skills of her own. The red headed agent saw the faint tightness around his eyes, the slight forced nature of his smile. Jane wasn't as collected as usual, and she wondered.

"Something like that," Van Pelt replied calmly, refusing to engage him when he was like this. It usually ended up with his words stinging her into saying something unintentionally hurtful. And while Jane may not have taken offense, and even found it amusing, Van Pelt didn't like that she caused that kind of pain. It just wasn't her nature to be cruel.

"Can we get to work?" Lisbon broke in from behind Jane. She had her hair down today, brushing the shoulders of her own short coat. She gave a quelling look to Jane, and they shuffled around the body of their murder victim. Lisbon turned, and waved through the glass window to the office behind, and a short, youngish man came out.

"Good morning, Agent Lisbon. Hiya Grace," the mousey man said shyly, and never noticed Jane's raised eyebrows as he caught Lisbon's gaze. The blond man didn't miss the fact that the males in the room hadn't been greeted once Walter had seen Grace.

"Hi Walter," Van Pelt said calmly, hiding her embarrassment. Walter Barnett's crush on her was almost as well known as Rigsby's, but much more comical. Rigsby's feelings had turned into a quiet devotion kept under professional wraps, but Walter had no such restraint. She would have been more worried, except that Walter developed a new crush every few weeks. It was just her turn, and would pass as soon as the next attractive woman crossed the shy coroner's path.

"Walter, what can you tell us?" Lisbon broke up Walter's not so subtle mooning, and Rigsby's almost as unsubtle seething. Jane, of course, was grinning and stood behind Lisbon.

"Well," the mousey man said, running his hand over his thinning hair. "She died of a single gunshot wound to the chest, probably from a .22, between 10 to 11 Saturday night."

"Close range," Jane commented after passing a single, almost careless gaze over the body. Walter started, his mouth dropping open. Lisbon resisted the temptation to elbow him in the stomach, and contented herself with a stern look.

"Y-yes, that's right," Walter agreed in surprise, "probably not more than 2 feet away. No defensive wounds. The bullet hit her left ventricle. She'd have died in moments."

"Anything else?" Lisbon asked, noting with approval both Rigsby and Grace taking notes.

"No, she was otherwise in great shape for her age," Walter said. "Aside from an old C-section scar and evidence of a broken collar bone obviously many years healed, she was in perfect health."

"Thanks, Walter," Lisbon replied. She looked at Risgby and Van Pelt and tilted her head. "Let's go back upstairs."

"Yes," Jane chimed in as they got in the elevator. "Cho should have Henry Bass quaking in his boots by now." Lisbon didn't bother to hide her little smile, and Rigsby grinned. Van Pelt just sighed and pushed the button.

Upstairs, Cho was giving his best not-to-be-messed-with stare and Henry Bass was not quaking in his boots. But Lisbon irreverently thought he might be itching a little, and suppressed her grin. Jane was not a good influence some days.

"Good morning, Mr. Bass," Lisbon said as she walked into the conference room, Jane shadowing her. Cho nodded in greeting, and quietly left. "I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon, and this is Mr. Jane."

Henry Bass was a medium sized man, slightly soggy around the middle and with thinning hair in Lisbon's opinion. He looked a little defeated, probably by the embezzlement charges hanging over his head. At first glance, he didn't look like a murderer. But then, some of the worst killers didn't look like they could hurt a fly.

"Hi," Bass grunted in badly feigned bravado, fidgeting a little in his chair. "So why am I here?"

"Mr. Bass, I understand you had angry words with your former boss, Mark Zeller," Lisbon stated, clearly inviting his side of the story. Jane sat down in a chair next to Bass, aligning his body to match the nervous man. Lisbon blinked, finally realizing why Jane so often sat in that position.

She had laughed at Rigsby's clumsy attempt to mirror her posture during that hypnotized murder a while ago. Like a bolt of lightning, she understood how much a master Jane was at those persuasion techniques. It was like a second skin on the consultant, and Lisbon literally had never noticed it before now. Sitting beside rather than across and facing the same direction let their interviewee's subconscious see Jane as an ally, and so they let down their guard without really knowing why. Lisbon felt a moment of reluctant admiration, followed by the irritating realization he was undoubtedly manipulating her more often than not as well. What other tricks of Jane's had she just not noticed yet?

"Yeah, I guess you could say I did," Bass said bitterly. "Zeller accused me of embezzling, but I didn't do it! He called me into his office, acting all disappointed and haughty and fired me on the spot. I have child support payments, and need that health insurance! But he did care, didn't want to hear my side of the story, just kicked me to the curb after 7 years of good service!"

"And that made you angry," Lisbon said. "Angry enough to kill?"

"No!" Bass protested, eyes wide. "I didn't kill Jasmine Zeller!"

"You did threaten Mark Zeller and his family," Jane pointed out, watching the other man closely. "According to the restraining order, pretty vehemently. You broke one of Mark Zeller's office pictures."

Bass shook his head and slumped slightly. "I was angry, and I said some things I wish I didn't. But I wouldn't hurt anyone, especially Jasmine. I always liked her. I was even going to vote for her, despite her rotten husband."

"What, exactly, did you like about Jasmine?" Jane asked curiously. Bass met his eyes with a faint touch of surprise.

"She was friendly," Bass said. "She always made it a point to talk to those of us in the office when she visited her husband. She listened and even brought us cookies a couple of months ago. She is…was…just good people."

Jane met Lisbon's green eyes, and gave her his shrug indicating that he believed Bass. Lisbon arched one dark brow slightly, but he could see she accepted his judgment. But she still had a job to do.

"Mr. Bass, where were you Saturday night?" Lisbon asked calmly.

"At home, with my wife," Mr. Bass said with a trace of bitterness. "She was moving out."

Lisbon wrote that information down, and made a mental note to have Cho and Rigsby check his alibi. She was just about to dismiss the man, when Jane spoke up.

"You said you didn't do it," Jane said. "The embezzlement. Why does everyone think you did do it?"

Bass ran his hand through his thinning, sparse hair. "The money was transferred to an offshore account using my computer sign-in codes. It looks like was going on for months. I had nothing to do with it, but nobody wants to believe me."

"I believe you, Mr. Bass," Jane said, ignoring Lisbon's astonished glare as the two men stood up. "We will be in touch if we have more questions."

"You believe him, do you?" Lisbon asked archly once the other man had left.

"He didn't do it," Jane replied easily.

"The murder or the embezzlement?" Lisbon challenged.

"Either," Jane said, "or neither as it were. What kind of an idiot uses his own computer codes to transfer money offshore? No one is that stupid. And he seemed to genuinely like Jasmine Zeller."

"Oh really? How about we find some evidence," Lisbon said.

Jane just shrugged, tucking his hands in his pockets and looking at the small, fierce woman he thought of as a friend. Not that he would ever tell her that.

"He was set up. But do what you have to do," Jane replied.

"Oh, thank you for that," Lisbon said, her expression of irritation ruined by the slightly amused twist to her lips. "I'm so glad to have your permission."

"Of course, my dear," Jane acknowledged grandly, ocean blue eyes twinkling. "You always have my permission."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: The second part of the dreams. **

**Chapter 6—Ocean Dreams**

Lisbon was dreaming.

She knew she was, with the detached certainty one only gets in dreams. She stood barefoot on an empty beach, wearing jeans and her favorite green shirt. She was staring out over the blue-green ocean, so like a certain pair of eyes she knew uncannily well. The sky was overcast, darkened by storm clouds and the smell of rain heavy in the air. But the breeze was warm and gentle, brushing her hair back with light fingers.

"Beautiful water," a golden voice said. Lisbon turned and Jane was suddenly there. He was in his light grey suit, her personal and secret favorite, but his feet were also bare in the sand. He wore his slight smile as he also gazed over to the storm-touched horizon as they stood side by side.

"What are you doing here?" Lisbon asked, and gasped when he turned to face her.

On his chest, where his clothing should be, was a gaping black hole. His CBI ID tag was hanging over the top of that crater, held in precariously in place with ragged staples and fraying thread that tied it to his suit. Red blood oozed slowly around the edges, flowing down his chest a few inches before vanishing into the fabric. Jane just smiled at her, ignoring the mortal wound.

"What happened to you?" Lisbon gasped, filled with a distant horror. She reached out to touch his chest, and the wound seemed to shrink slightly.

"Red John ripped my heart out," Jane replied calmly, canting his head to look at her. "But why are you here?"

"It's my dream," Lisbon pointed out tartly, unable to tear her gaze from his gaping wound. She looked up into his eyes, and noted clinically they seemed to be a light brown instead of the usual blue. "What is wrong with your eyes?"

"They refuse to see," Jane replied. He turned slightly, listening to something behind him. "Can you hear it?"

"Hear what" Lisbon asked. The faint sound of a golden laugh reached her over the ocean surf.

"I like you," a little girl said from behind Lisbon. Lisbon whirled, and saw a faintly familiar little girl with ocean blue eyes looking at her with a familiar impish smile. It took her a minute to place Bunny O'Neill, the little girl Jane had been coloring with yesterday. "Will you fix my daddy?"

Lisbon felt confused. "I don't know your daddy."

The girl giggled, her bright blue eyes dancing. "Yes you do, silly. He's right behind you!"

Lisbon turned and saw Jane was walking down the beach, trying not to slide and fall in the soft sand and leaving red footprints behind him. He walked dangerously close to the suddenly rough ocean waves, and Lisbon felt a familiar catch of worry in her chest whenever Jane danced too close to the edge. The water seemed to be reaching for the blond man, and he was just barely staying out of the grip of the watery depths.

"I don't know how to fix him," Lisbon said when the little girl took her hand.

"Yes you do," the girl replied, and looked up to meet Lisbon's green eyes. "Here."

Lisbon looked slowly down, and the little girl held up her gun and badge. Lisbon took them in confusion.

"How can these fix him?" Lisbon asked. The little girl tilted her head to the side in a way that suddenly reminded her of Jane, and slowly blinked her blue eyes.

"Not them," the girl said. "You."

"I don't understand," Lisbon said, looking back to the walking Jane. He seemed to be reaching toward the writhing water, almost like he wanted to be taken under, only to barely pull himself back from the brink. The ocean water churned, chewing on the sand at Jane's feet until a large cliff appeared beneath him. He stood with his bare toes just off the damp rock, swaying back and forth gently as he stared into the deep, endless ocean below him.

Suddenly, Lisbon and the little girl stood right behind Jane. The girl gave Lisbon a gentle shove with a wide, brilliant smile toward Jane.

Lisbon reached out, and put her hand up on Jane's shoulder just as he seemed to tilt to far forward.

"Stay with me," Lisbon said softly, her eyes full. Jane turned, his eyes blue again and stared at her in surprise.

"Second chances," Jane mumbled and turned to face her fully, his face so near hers. Lisbon found herself leaning into him, feeling his warm breath inches from her.

"Stay with me," Lisbon said again as her eyes slipped closed.

"Second chances," the little girl agreed with a giggle. The ocean surf seemed to rage as Jane took a tentative step toward Lisbon, and thunder spilled across the sky. But all Lisbon was aware of was the warmth of Jane as his hands came to rest on her shoulders, and the soft give of his lips as she pressed into his kiss.

And then Lisbon woke.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note: I've was feeling a little fey when I wrote these chapters. I figured that sometimes, some people will only wise up in thier dreams._

**Chapter 7—Dreaming Oceans**

Jane was dreaming.

He knew with the detached certainty one only feels in dreams. He stood in his grey suit, staring out over the Malibu ocean. He looked behind him and saw his house, but left empty and in disrepair. He frowned as he saw the large windows his wife had loved were broken, leaving jagged shards that cut his hand when he touched them. Cobwebs and vast intricate spider webs filled the corners of empty, spacious rooms, and dust and ocean debris filled the corners.

He looked up at the darkened house, seeing the crumbling paint and where the roof was caving in. What looked like giant black moths would fly out of the broken windows at random intervals. He turned to look out over the ocean again, and saw the figure of a woman walking down the beach.

Lisbon strode easily, seemingly untouched by the churning, storm tossed ocean Jane saw. She paused, and looked out over the horizon, and Jane found himself next to her.

"Beautiful view," Jane said as they stood side by side.

"What happened to you?" Lisbon asked, turning him to face her. She ran a gentle hand over his chest, and he looked down.

Where his heart should be was a gaping, ragged hole. His CBI badge barely covered the wound and was threatening to break in half. Lisbon's touch seemed to make the hole less deep, and he felt less empty.

"He took my heart," Jane replied calmly. "Why are you here, Lisbon?"

Instead of answering, Lisbon turned to look behind her. In the abrupt way of dreaming, Jane found himself walking down the sandy beach, trying to not fall into the angry surf. But the sand was heavy and dragged on him, and kept shifting so he almost lost his balance. Finally he stopped, and just stared at the tsunami wave heading for him. He was strangely unafraid.

The wave crashed at his feet, and he realized he was barefoot. The water relentlessly bore away the sand in front of him, until he was leaning over the edge of a vast cliff. The ocean water churned and boiled far below him, but for some reason Jane had an irresistible impulse to simply fall into those depths and accept the oblivion it offered.

"Second chances," Lisbon's voice said from behind him. Jane didn't turn, just stood staring into the ocean depths, tempted. Then he felt Lisbon's warm hand on his shoulder, and he turned. Her green eyes were soft, and glistened with unshed tears.

"Stay with me, Jane," Lisbon simply said.

"Second chances," Jane muttered and turned fully to face her. She leaned in close, and suddenly the hungry ocean depths behind him stilled as he rubbed her shoulders. She pressed her lips to his, soft and giving like he had always thought they would be. After a moment, Jane felt himself pulling her close, pressing into her kiss.

When they broke apart, Lisbon held her badge and gun in her hand.

With a soft smile, she pulled his CBI badge to the side, placed the metal badge and the gun in the gaping hole, and slide the badge back into place. Jane placed his hands over his chest, and felt only the smooth fabric of his vest and shirt. He pulled the shirt down to look at his chest, and saw only an eerie smiling face painted in red for a scar. But the color was already fading and flaking off. When it was done, there was only the slightest trace of the hideous wound that would never entirely disappear.

"They said I could fix that," Lisbon said.

"Who did?" Jane asked, and Lisbon pointed off to down the beach. The silhouette of two figures, a child and her mother, walked into the now calm, sunny ocean. They walked hand in hand, and Jane suddenly knew they were happy and at peace as the faded into the suddenly blinding sunlight.

"Don't go," Jane whispered after them, his new heart breaking.

"They will never really leave," Lisbon replied, and placed her hand on his chest where the wound once was, smiling up at him. "Second chances."

And then Jane woke.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8--Sand**

Lisbon walked into work uncharacteristically quiet. Van Pelt and Cho traded looks when Lisbon quietly slipped into her office without her usual confident strut or wave to her team. Rigsby came back drinking his coffee and sat as his desk, smoothing his dark red tie.

"What's with her?" Cho asked as he crossed the bullpen to drop a file off on Grace's desk, peering in the direction of Lisbon's office.

"I don't know," Grace said, her light brown eyes concerned.

"What's with who?" Rigsby asked.

"Lisbon," Cho replied.

"What about her?" Rigsby asked as he opened his morning power bar. Cho and Grace traded another look, Grace rolling her eyes slightly at Rigsby cluelessness.

"What is wrong with you?" Cho asked the taller man. Grace stifled a laugh at Rigsby's quiet confusion, even as he chewed on his morning snack.

A sudden crash and a muffled apology drifted across the room, and Grace pushed her chair back slight to see around the archway. In the kitchenette, Jane stood with the remains of his tea at his feet. There was nothing outwardly different about the blond consultant, but Grace had the sudden feeling that Jane was upset. There was just something about the lines around his eyes that betrayed his tension.

Grace got up, and crouched down near Jane to help him clean up the broken pieces of his morning tea.

"Why, thank you, Grace," Jane said with a cheery smile for the red headed agent. Grace just smiled at him.

"No problem," Van Pelt replied, and then handed Jane a few paper towels to sop up the liquid. "You okay?"

"Of course," Jane replied easily. "Just a bit clumsy this morning, I suppose."

Grace placed the broken bits of the cup in the trashcan, turned and leaned against the counter as Jane washed his hands.

"Jane," Grace said, deciding to push the limits a little bit. After all, Jane was always encouraging her to break out of her shell. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Van Pelt," Jane replied with a smile, forcing his eyes to twinkle.

"You seem…upset recently," Grace said tentatively. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Jane said, meeting her eyes for a moment.

"No, you're not," Grace replied calmly. She took a deep breath. "I'm not stupid, you know. You haven't been okay for a few days now."

Jane looked away for a moment, and didn't answer. Grace just looked at him for a minute, before giving a sad, accepting smile.

"Well, if you want to talk about it, I'm here," Grace said and started to leave.

"What did you do for Father's Day?" Jane asked suddenly as Grace passed.

"Not much," the red head replied. "I called my dad, made sure he got the card I sent. My sister and I bought him a special stand for his championship football from college. His old one was getting pretty wobbly. Mom said he loved it."

"That's nice, Van Pelt. Thoughtful," Jane said with a soft, slightly sad smile. "My favorite Father's Day was the year before they died. My wife made me breakfast in bed, and then we went downstairs and my daughter played a song on the piano for me. She had practiced for weeks to get it perfect. She didn't miss a note."

"You still miss them," Grace replied, starting to understand a little.

"Every day," Jane admitted. "But I've been dreaming about them lately. I almost never dream anymore."

"You mean you don't remember your dreams," Grace said.

"No. I have always remembered my dreams very clearly, and I just don't dream much anymore," Jane said. "It's just been unsettling. I'm sorry if I've worried you. You worry too much."

"I do not," Grace said indignantly. "I just care."

"Why? Why do you care so much?" Jane asked in what seemed like genuine curiosity.

"You are my teammate," Grace replied, and gave him a teasing smile. "And despite being a bit of an ass sometimes, I'd like to think you are my friend as well."

Jane laughed. "Fair enough, Van Pelt," he said as he started to walk back to his couch. He paused at the doorway, and turned to look at her. "And I am your friend, Grace. Even when I'm being an ass."

Grace gave him her best and brightest smile, and even let herself smirk a little at the blond consultant when she saw him blink. Just because she didn't use her beauty often, didn't mean she did know how to get a man's attention. She let her hips swish a little more than usual as she walked by the blond man, and heard him chuckle under his breath.

"There's my girl," Jane teased. "Good thing Rigsby isn't here. The poor man would have a heart attack right now."

Van Pelt just threw him an artfully pouty frown, with just a hint of a smile over her shoulder, knowing that while he might appreciate the view, he was one man who would do nothing about it. Then she went back to work, feeling oddly satisfied that she had won a game with Jane. She wasn't sure what the game had been, but decided she wasn't going to care today.

From her office doorway, Lisbon watched Van Pelt sashay her way back to her desk and caught Jane's amused and slightly appreciative look as he followed the tall woman. Lisbon closed her door, and frowned at the sudden lurch in her chest.

She shook her head. "Get a hold of yourself, Lisbon," she muttered to herself and tried to focus on her work. But the phantom press of lips from her dream kept intruding.

A few minutes later, Lisbon found herself sitting at her desk, staring at her badge, rubbing the shield gently with her thumb. A knock on her door startled her out of her revere.

"Yes?" she called, and Cho opened the door. He came inside with his usual efficient silence, and dropped a few of his completed reports on her desk. Cho was about to leave, when he paused and looked at her desk.

"When did you go to the beach?" Cho asked.

"What?" Lisbon said in surprise, looking up to the compact Asian man's face. "I haven't been to the beach since our last case there, Cho."

"Huh," Cho replied, and pointed. "Where did that come from then?"

Surprised, Lisbon looked down to her desk and saw the faint trail of grit under her badge. Her brow furrowed, and she pulled the badge forward. Her green eyes darkened and she shook the leather holder. Then looked up into Cho's dark brown eyes, unable to hide her confusion and unease, then stared back at her desk in shock.

Her finger shook a little as she reached out to a small pile of sun-kissed sand.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9-Noticing**

Cho could only stare at the blind panic in his boss's eyes. He had never seen her look this upset, not when facing down killers three times her size or staring down at a mangled body. Before today, he would have thought nothing and no one but Jane could get under her skin.

"What's wrong?" he asked sharply, leaning over Lisbon's desk, brushing some of the sand away.

"N-nothing," Lisbon stuttered. Cho paused a moment, deciding just how far he was going to push. But Lisbon was more than just his superior, she was someone he cared about as well.

"Liar," Cho declared, and sat in the chair across from her. "Something about that sand has you freaked out, boss. What's wrong?"

Lisbon took a shaky breath, pulling her hand away from the impossible mound of sand on her desk. "I don't know where this came from," she said quietly, before meeting Cho concerned gaze. "I haven't been anywhere there is sand in months."

"Okay," Cho said, his practical nature taking hold. "So how did it get into your badge? A joke maybe?"

"It's a pretty weird joke," Lisbon pointed out, slowly pulling her panic mind back into play. "And why? It's not like anyone knows….."

Cho narrowed his eyes at his petite boss as her words trailed off. "Knows about what?" he asked.

Lisbon found herself on the receiving end of one of Cho's implacable, neutral expressions. She suddenly felt sorry for the hundreds of people she had sent to be interrogated by the man, now that she knew just how it felt to be interrogated wordlessly by Cho.

"Cho, I don't think…"Lisbon tried to say.

"Know what?" Cho repeated, interrupting her attempt to regain control of the situation. Unexpectedly, Cho let his expression soften, and Lisbon was struck by the concern in his eyes. "Tell me, boss."

Lisbon sighed. "I haven't been anywhere near a beach in months, but lately…."

Cho waited silently. Lisbon let the silence grow until even she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Lately, I've been having these dreams," Lisbon finished, looking away.

"Dreams," Cho stated.

"About a beach," Lisbon admitted, "and about….about Jane."

"Jane," Cho repeated, his expression impassive. "How long?"

"A few weeks now," Lisbon sighed, hiding her embarrassment by pushing the little pile of sand on her desk around a bit and avoiding Cho's eyes. "I couldn't remember them at first, just snatches or feelings. But lately, they've gotten more….vivid, I guess. More…real …somehow."

"What happens in these dreams?" Cho asked, starting to get curious.

"I'm walking on a beach and then I meet somebody. Sometimes it's a woman with brown hair, sometimes a little girl with blue eyes, a couple of times it's been one of my brothers. Once it was even Rigsby," Lisbon said.

"Rigsby? No wonder you are freaking out," Cho answered. Lisbon cracked a smile.

"But it wasn't him. They all say something to me, but I can never remember it when I wake up. Just that it is something about Jane," Lisbon went on. "It's like they are worried about him and want me to do something, but I don't know what it is. And then, last night…"

"Yeah?" Cho prompted.

"Last night I had another one, but this time Jane was in it," Lisbon said as she stood up, prowling around her office in agitation.

"What happened?" Cho asked, his dark eyes following his boss as she paced.

"We were on the beach again, and I saw the little girl," Lisbon replied. "She sent me after Jane just before he fell into the ocean. He had a hole in his chest."

"Doesn't take a genius to get that metaphor," Cho said. Lisbon sighed in resignation.

"I guess not," she agreed. "The the little girl kept pushing me toward him, and told me to put my gun and badge in his chest. When I did that, the hole filled up again."

"And?" Cho prompted when Lisbon stopped.

"And then I woke up," Lisbon said abruptly, deciding that some information was not to be shared. "But it was so strong and almost real. I haven't been able to concentrate on anything else all day. I've never had a dream like that before. And now, this sand."

"Weird," Cho stated into the silence.

"Weird," Lisbon agreed, and the two agents stared at impossible granules on her desk

A sudden knock broke the moment, and both Cho and Lisbon started a little as the door opened.

"Hey, boss?" Van Pelt said as she poked her into the office. "We might have a lead on the Zeller case."

Lisbon immediately perked up and Cho stood up.

"Well?" Lisbon prompted as she followed the red head into the bullpen. Rigsby was leaning over Van Pelt's computer with Jane looking over his shoulder, sipping his tea.

"We have been interviewing all the staff of the Zeller household," Van Pelt said. "There is only one we haven't been able to get a hold of."

"Francine DeMarco," Risgby supplied. "She is the Zeller's part-time nanny. Van Pelt ran her through the database and found something."

"Francine DeMarco has a record," Van Pelt said, suppressing her urge to crow. "A couple of arrests for trespassing and a restraining order from a former boyfriend. Apparently, she was stalking him and threatened to kill his new girlfriend."

"Interesting," Jane's golden voice seemed to fill Lisbon's mind, and she had to shake herself slightly to break the spell. A familiar flash of irritation at her uncharacteristic reaction helped spark her back into reality.

"Were is this nanny now?" Lisbon asked.

"We've checked her home, her parents home and her phone hasn't been used in almost 48 hours," Rigsby supplied.

"Let's find some of her friends, colleagues," Lisbon said decisively. "Someone has to know where she is. Van Pelt, check for bank or credit card activity."

"Already started, boss," the tall woman said simply.

Lisbon glanced over her team, and gave them a small smile before gesturing them all to get to work. As she walked away, she didn't notice Jane's ocean blue eyes following her over the rim of his tea cup.

But Cho did.


	10. Chapter 10

**_I've been gone for a while, and when I got back to my story, I had lost the mojo! I'm trying to get it back, tho' :)_**

**_Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing but my own words. This is done for love of the show and characters._**

**Chapter 10--Nebulous**

Cho pulled smoothly up to the stop light, and glanced over to the beautiful woman in the passenger seat. The large SUV hummed in the quiet.

"Ok, spill," Cho said. Grace started at the unexpected comment.

"I don't know what you mean," she said.

"You have seen it, too," Cho said. "I saw you talking to Jane earlier when he dropped his tea."

Grace shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure I should….."

Cho turned and looked out the front window. "Lisbon said she had a weird dream."

The sudden silence in the car made Cho smile inside, but his expression never changed.

"Oh my God," Grace whispered. "So did Jane."

"What was Jane's?" Cho asked. Grace shifted in her seat, clearly reluctant. "Something is up with those two. Something is wrong."

"I think so too," Grace sighed. Cho let the silence stretch as he accelerated and made the turn. "He didn't really say much, just that he has been dreaming about his family."

Cho grunted softly, thinking.

"What about the boss?" Grace asked.

"She can't quite remember, just something about a beach and a woman and a little girl," Cho said. 'And….Jane."

"Do you know what is going on?" Grace asked.

"No. You?" Cho replied.

"No," Grace said in defeat. "All I know is that Jane is…off his game, somehow. I can't explain it."

"Great," Cho said. "That's all we need, Jane off his rocker and taking Lisbon with him. Not good."

"But what can we do about it?" she asked as they pulled up to a small, pale house. The two agents sat for a moment, caught in their nebulous concerns.

"Find Francine DeMarco," Cho finally said as he got out of the car. Grace nodded, and the two agents went back to the only thing they could control.

Their job.


End file.
